


Wait and Watch

by TheMockingJ3



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Constable Barton (Mentioned), Gen, Humour, Inspector Chelmey (Mentioned), Missing scene set during the case from the Eternal Diva prologue, Pigeons, The silencing of Big Ben’s bell case, Think again!, You thought Flora stood on the bridge doing nothing, while Don Paolo got away?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 04:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19265536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingJ3/pseuds/TheMockingJ3
Summary: ”Flora, you stay here.”Flora stays on Tower Bridge while the professor and Luke chase after Don Paolo.





	Wait and Watch

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from @Samcybercat on Tumblr: Flora + “We were never meant to fight on our own.”

**Wait And Watch **

”Flora, you stay here.”

“Professor!” Flora reached out to him, but he had already started running with Luke. She glanced at Inspector Chelmey and Barton. Could she catch a ride with them? 

Nope... The police had jumped straight into their cars. Sirens wailing, they all went in pursuit of Don Paolo. 

Flora rushed to the bridge railings, scaring a flock of pigeons from their roost. She scanned the sky. 

Don Paolo’s maniacal laughter was unmissable, though from this distance, he looked no bigger than a purple beetle floating away on a flower. 

How had he built that flying umbrella? It appeared to have a propeller- how strong must it have been to lift him off the ground? 

It was  almost  as impressive as the hang glider the professor made in St Mystere... 

_Focus!_ Flora’s thoughts returned to Don Paolo. He was flying further and further over the Thames. She frowned. The professor and Luke would never catch him on foot. Neither would the police, unless they were sending out helicopters...? 

Flora strained her ears, but she couldn’t hear any aircrafts. They were going to lose him! 

She gripped the railings in frustration. 

And what was  she doing? Waiting, watching...  _Nothing!_

The professor had told her to  stay here.  Did he mean in that exact spot? On the bridge- by herself? He’d prefer for her to wait here alone (surrounded by three people who had been involved in the case but still  _alone)_ than help them capture Don Paolo. 

Yes, this was the same villain who had kidnapped her on their last adventure, but that had been Flora’s  _first_ adventure.

She was far wiser now and much more at home living in London. People living in London did not  stay put.  Loitering was for tourists. There was  always  something happening. At that moment, it happened to be Don Paolo’s great escape.

Flora’s gaze fell on the boats drifting along the river. If one passed under the bridge, perhaps she could jump...? 

And then what?  _Bounce_ all the way up to Don Paolo? She was more likely to break both of her legs. 

What she needed were  _wings._

She assessed the bridge for something she could use. 

The only items within easy reach were those from Don Paolo’s discarded old lady disguise. 

The trio left with her on the bridge- two men and one woman- simply overlooked Flora. Now that Professor Layton had unmasked the true culprit, they must have thought their roles in the mystery were over. 

Flora had hoped Gregory Grain- the architect who had requested Layton’s aid in the first place- would offer to help her, but he just unfurled a newspaper and began to read. 

When Flora grabbed Don Paolo’s mask, the woman ( _Penny?_ ) made a noise of disgust. 

“Ugh! How did he even  _fit_ inthat costume?”

Initially, Flora had felt sorry for Penny; she was a clockmaker who had been falsely accused of silencing Big Ben’s bell until the professor cleared her name. You’d think she’d be a lot more humbled by the whole affair!

Clicking her tongue, Flora retrieved a pink cardigan and a blue skirt from the floor. If only she had brought her sewing essentials... 

She glanced at the man kneeling next to Penny. That was her big brother, Ben. (Ha,  _Big Ben-_ much easier to remember.) 

He was wearing a stylish pink fedora... Maybe he had a needle and thread handy? 

Ben was patting Penny on the back. “Never mind. Professor Layton will catch him... Right, Greg?”

Gregory hummed behind his paper. “Mm-hmm.”

“Um,” Flora tried to interrupt, “excuse me-“ 

“Here, let’s have a sandwich while we wait,” Ben suggested, as if sandwiches would solve everything. He pulled out a lunchbox. The second he opened it, he was swarmed by pigeons. “No, no- THESE AREN’T FOR YOU-!” He shrieked. So did Penny. 

“GREG, GET HELP!”

“Mm-hmm-“

“Help _YOURSELVES!”_

At Flora’s shout, the pigeons shot off, revealing the shocked faces of Ben and Penny. Even Gregory peeked over his newspaper at Flora. 

Flora was glaring at them, but then her eyes widened at the paper. Her gaze flicked from the paper, to the sandwich crumbs, to the pigeons. 

_Eureka!_

She dropped the materials from Don Paolo’s disguise and dashed up to Gregory. “I need  that...”  She nicked his newspaper. “And  this...” She borrowed the lunchbox. “And  _all of you!_ ” She pointed up at the pigeons. 

“Is she really Professor Layton’s...  daughter?” Penny hissed as Flora tore out a page of paper and spread it on the bridge. 

“Adopted, I believe,” Gregory coughed. “Although, she certainly seems to have inherited his... ingenuity.” 

They stared, fascinated, as Flora folded the paper into a plane. She made it the way Bruno had taught her, so it would fly straight and fast and strong. When it was done, she tipped the lunchbox upside down, pouring the breadcrumbs into the paper. She picked up the plane and tested its weight.

Above her, she heard excited cooing. She looked up. The pigeons were perched on the upper level of the bridge, hypnotised by the movements of the plane. 

Quickly, but ever so carefully, she carried the plane to the part of the railings where Don Paolo had ascended. 

She squinted. Don Paolo was still within range. 

She pinched the bottom of the plane between her fingers. She inhaled, took aim, and... fired. 

There were gasps from her observers, and flurries of feathers as her avian army gave chase. 

Her paper plane soared over the Thames, trailing breadcrumbs behind it. 

Flora lifted herself up onto the railings. 

_Please, please, please..._ she prayed. 

Her target was in sight- just a little closer... 

One foot from Don Paolo, the plane lost momentum and took a nosedive. 

“NO!”  Flora cried, banging her temples against the railings. 

As if he had sensed her dismay, Don Paolo turned his head mid-flight. His victory grin sank into jaw-dropping terror. A fleet of... _pigeons_ was flying right at him! 

Theyblew past like a round of grey bullets. He was trapped in a hurricane of wings. Their feathers caught in his propeller, his mouth, and his eyes. He was blinded. He was losing his  grip...!

He screamed as he let go of his umbrella. “LAAAYTOOOOOON!” 

Flora gasped and lifted her head when she heard a loud splash. 

“ _Bullseye!”_ Penny cheered. She, Ben and Gregory were clinging to the railings alongside Flora. 

“W-what?” Flora said. “Did the professor...?”

“It was all  _you!”_ Ben beamed at her. 

“Technically,” Gregory amended, “it was your feathered friends.” 

Speechless, Flora surveyed the river below. Had she really hit Don Paolo? She hoped he wouldn’t drown. (He wasn’t _that_ awful.)

Surely the professor or Inspector Chelmey would fish him out... 

This was not the case, Flora learned, when she arrived at Scotland Yard two hours later. Greg had given her a lift with Ben and Penny. 

Flora was reunited with the professor and Luke, who recounted how they had witnessed a flock of pigeons knocking Don Paolo into the river. 

“See, they’re not just ‘rats with wings’, ” Luke proclaimed. “Pigeons deserve more respect!” 

Ben shuddered. “I beg to differ...”

Penny pitched in, “It was Flora who directed the pigeons!” 

_ “Flora?” _ Luke exclaimed, in that same tone of voice as when they had found her on the Molentary Express. As if it was a miracle she knew how to board a train.

“You don’t have to act so  surprised,” Flora huffed. 

Her heart swelled with pride when the professor praised her. “Well done, my dear girl. I’m sorry for underestimating you. I just thought, after our last run-in with Don Paolo, you would feel safer remaining on the bridge...” 

“Ah, but she _didn't_ leave the bridge, did she?” Greg pointed out with a smirk. “She took control of the situation and utilised the tools available to her at the time.” 

Ben put it simply, “She made a plane.” 

“Just like the professor,” Luke gasped. He grinned at Flora. “That’s amazing!” 

“Thanks.” Flora giggled and she felt a warm spot under her neck. 

“Any luck catching... Don Paolo?” Penny wondered nervously. 

The professor shook his head. He didn’t seem all that annoyed, but rather, how one might react if he failed to catch the bus. “ We believe he made it to shore or stowed-away on a boat. The only trace we could find of him was this.” He revealed Don Paolo’s broken umbrella from his coat sleeve.

Luke studied him as if he had just a whipped out a sword. “ Professor! I  thought you’d handed that in to Inspector Chelmey!” 

“If that was the case, this umbrella would sit in an evidence room for the rest of its days, or Don Paolo would most likely steal it back. It would be much more beneficial if someone could discover how it worked and put it to good use...” He presented it to Flora. 

Beaming, Flora opened the battered umbrella and held it up. A few drops of river water splashed onto her head. She laughed, “ Well, it won’t be much help against the rain!” 


End file.
